Complexities of Chaos: Chapter 5: A Reboot, but WHY?!?!
Nov 7, 2021 14:50:50 GMT -5
CJ Phoenix likes this
Post by Z on Nov 7, 2021 14:50:50 GMT -5
Complexities of Chaos: Chapter 5: A Reboot, but WHY?!?!
*Per the usual we are sitting in darkness. Blind to what our surroundings are, but our auditory receptors hear things. Things, such as a breeze blowing through grass, even some leaves.*
“Yes my love. I will take care of the business I need to and I will be on the first flight out of Atlanta to you.... Oh it should be no issue whatsoever… HA! HA! Yeah he was the moron that couldn’t speak without every other word being a profanity… He also decided to stand on the outside of the ring and stare at me as I delivered the final blow to achieve victory… Yeah he was frozen in fear… Alright, beautiful… I love you. Bye…”
*His voice sounds in the distance but seems to be coming closer and closer. As the final syllable is spoken, we are blinded. Our dark veil flies away and are surrounded by white. It takes a moment or two for our sight to come together and focus. Z stands in front of us, his back to us. His wavy thick hair flows down the length of his neck reaching to just before the bottom of his shoulder blades. He has a jean jacket on. His pants look to be denim.*
“Oh my. Such a ridiculous situation I find myself in. A rematch of sorts. Last time myself and this complete moron with a horrendous and moronic name, shared a ring, there was a third spoke bouncing around in the ring as well. You were frozen at the end of that match. Starstruck even.”
*The big man turns to face us now. The distance between him and us doesn’t diminish his height or size any. His piercing blue eyes boring a hole through us as he prepares to speak some more.*
“It seems you have reduced your name to three letters. Interesting. Is it because the child like adults around you couldn’t properly pronounce your ridiculously moronic name? So arrogant of you to carry that name and even moniker. You are a mere technicality for my march to that Hardcore Championship. You are only getting this one on one match because you decided to whine and cry to the brass in charge. They felt pity for you so here we are. You are now the sole focus. The sole objective. No one else to take some of the brute punishment that I will be dishing out.”
*He seems to let out some kind of chuckle, or even a scoff.*
“After enjoying my victory over you and whomever that other nobody was. I finally went back and watched your recording you decided to turn in before the match up. Just like what we are contracted to do. Where did you go to school? Did you even go to school? Were you homeschooled and your parents and a way below average I Q? All those questions are rhetorical no need for you to waste what little oxygen you are permitted to suck into that meat sack of a body you meander this earth with. The answers are perfectly clear. You have a lack of imagination. A lack of wit. Little to no direction. You speak as though you were raised off the grid but not by the people that are off the grid due to their own beliefs and directions. You seem to have been there due to some consequences your family was facing then. You have a base vocabulary that is just above a kindergartener. And it seems all you heard and followed from the supposed adult role models in your young life. Why can’t you use a dictionary? Maybe a thesaurus? Oh. Nevermind. I just answered my own question. You have no idea how to read.”
*Zolton smiled crookedly as he began to inch closer to us. His stature reduces size yet not as he approaches.*
“Robby. Bigg. Dick. Such a crazily unearned name. Meh. What do I know, I do not float around on that side of the tracks. I am smarter than that. I am also, a far better than you could ever imagine to be in the ring and when it comes to mic work as well. I’ve proved that easily with the first two words I said in this statement. I am only confused by why I am still going. Oh that’s right, I have dignity. I have creativity. Also I know how to work the angles. Work the pause. The dramatics. What I am trying to say for your simplistic brain to understand. I am far better than you in every aspect of this business. You do not deserve to be in the same ring as I. I again proved that the last time this movie was recorded. I could also choose to show my human side. My sympathetic side. But why? What would that bring to me? My credibility? Also I have no care about you Robby. I couldn’t care less if you decided to walk into the dark and never return. One thing I do care about. One thing that I am for sure is going to happen at Clash on Monday Night, you will fall victim to my Chaos. The wake of Chaos. You barely missed it the last time we fought. But this time? There is no escaping it. Welcome back to the Chaos. The words have been spoken. So shall they become reality. The Complexities of Chaos.”
*Z moves toward us all the while speaking. His eyes intensified. His grin growing more demonic. Pushing us to almost feel fear. A quick maniacal chuckle comes from him as he passes and we are sent back into darkness. As well as becoming deaf again. Done. Complete. Finish. END!*
*Per the usual we are sitting in darkness. Blind to what our surroundings are, but our auditory receptors hear things. Things, such as a breeze blowing through grass, even some leaves.*
“Yes my love. I will take care of the business I need to and I will be on the first flight out of Atlanta to you.... Oh it should be no issue whatsoever… HA! HA! Yeah he was the moron that couldn’t speak without every other word being a profanity… He also decided to stand on the outside of the ring and stare at me as I delivered the final blow to achieve victory… Yeah he was frozen in fear… Alright, beautiful… I love you. Bye…”
*His voice sounds in the distance but seems to be coming closer and closer. As the final syllable is spoken, we are blinded. Our dark veil flies away and are surrounded by white. It takes a moment or two for our sight to come together and focus. Z stands in front of us, his back to us. His wavy thick hair flows down the length of his neck reaching to just before the bottom of his shoulder blades. He has a jean jacket on. His pants look to be denim.*
“Oh my. Such a ridiculous situation I find myself in. A rematch of sorts. Last time myself and this complete moron with a horrendous and moronic name, shared a ring, there was a third spoke bouncing around in the ring as well. You were frozen at the end of that match. Starstruck even.”
*The big man turns to face us now. The distance between him and us doesn’t diminish his height or size any. His piercing blue eyes boring a hole through us as he prepares to speak some more.*
“It seems you have reduced your name to three letters. Interesting. Is it because the child like adults around you couldn’t properly pronounce your ridiculously moronic name? So arrogant of you to carry that name and even moniker. You are a mere technicality for my march to that Hardcore Championship. You are only getting this one on one match because you decided to whine and cry to the brass in charge. They felt pity for you so here we are. You are now the sole focus. The sole objective. No one else to take some of the brute punishment that I will be dishing out.”
*He seems to let out some kind of chuckle, or even a scoff.*
“After enjoying my victory over you and whomever that other nobody was. I finally went back and watched your recording you decided to turn in before the match up. Just like what we are contracted to do. Where did you go to school? Did you even go to school? Were you homeschooled and your parents and a way below average I Q? All those questions are rhetorical no need for you to waste what little oxygen you are permitted to suck into that meat sack of a body you meander this earth with. The answers are perfectly clear. You have a lack of imagination. A lack of wit. Little to no direction. You speak as though you were raised off the grid but not by the people that are off the grid due to their own beliefs and directions. You seem to have been there due to some consequences your family was facing then. You have a base vocabulary that is just above a kindergartener. And it seems all you heard and followed from the supposed adult role models in your young life. Why can’t you use a dictionary? Maybe a thesaurus? Oh. Nevermind. I just answered my own question. You have no idea how to read.”
*Zolton smiled crookedly as he began to inch closer to us. His stature reduces size yet not as he approaches.*
“Robby. Bigg. Dick. Such a crazily unearned name. Meh. What do I know, I do not float around on that side of the tracks. I am smarter than that. I am also, a far better than you could ever imagine to be in the ring and when it comes to mic work as well. I’ve proved that easily with the first two words I said in this statement. I am only confused by why I am still going. Oh that’s right, I have dignity. I have creativity. Also I know how to work the angles. Work the pause. The dramatics. What I am trying to say for your simplistic brain to understand. I am far better than you in every aspect of this business. You do not deserve to be in the same ring as I. I again proved that the last time this movie was recorded. I could also choose to show my human side. My sympathetic side. But why? What would that bring to me? My credibility? Also I have no care about you Robby. I couldn’t care less if you decided to walk into the dark and never return. One thing I do care about. One thing that I am for sure is going to happen at Clash on Monday Night, you will fall victim to my Chaos. The wake of Chaos. You barely missed it the last time we fought. But this time? There is no escaping it. Welcome back to the Chaos. The words have been spoken. So shall they become reality. The Complexities of Chaos.”
*Z moves toward us all the while speaking. His eyes intensified. His grin growing more demonic. Pushing us to almost feel fear. A quick maniacal chuckle comes from him as he passes and we are sent back into darkness. As well as becoming deaf again. Done. Complete. Finish. END!*